Maybe For A Drink
by UltraRecycloVegetarian
Summary: At 18, Sam Manson is already engaged to the wealthy Elliot Williams. She has everything she could ever dream of. But what she really wants to be a flapper, to live in speakeasies and drink until she aches. It doesn't help that she falls in love with a ghost. Add in a goody two-shoes cousin, a possibly jealous best friend, and a shady ghost singer, and she's got trouble. {1920's AU}
1. Chapter 1

_Full Summary (because I had to rearrange and shorten it to fit FF's rules): At 18, Samantha Manson is already engaged to the wealthy Elliot Williams. She's got everything she could ever dream of. Well, not exactly. Sam would much rather live the life of a flapper, living in speakeasies and drinking until she aches. But she might've bitten off more than she can chew when she finds herself infatuated with the mysterious Phantom, who won't even spare her a glance._

_Paulina Sanchez has been given a second chance. She's been sent to live with her aunt's family, in order to prove herself. This is where she can paint a new picture of herself. She can leave all the lies of her past life, and start a new one here. She'll be innocent, sweet, and a perfect Maid of Honor to Sam. But her plan isn't fulfilled so quickly, when her past is still haunting her and she finds out that Amity has its own set of secrets._

_Ember McLain knows she isn't a good person. She knows she could do better if she tried. But what did it matter? People would always judge her simply because she's a ghost, so she shouldn't bother. Besides, singing at the Green Mill is good enough. So when a human girl tries to worm her way into her life, Ember isn't pleased. But she realizes that she's been stereotyped so long she's forgotten to look beyond the surface of others. And boy, do they surprise her._

* * *

_"Long live the Reckless and the Brave,_

_I don't think I wanna be saved,_

_My song has not been sung,_

_So long live us,"_

**Samantha Manson** leaned against the grimy brick wall, then thought better of it and straightened back up. She wouldn't want her dress to get ruined.

"So?" The girl whispered to the boy next to her. Even though there wasn't really any point in whispering, seeing that he could barely hear her over the music that seemed to be floating through the wall. "Are we getting in?"

**Dash Baxter**, also known as her best friend, grinned back at her, "Let me work my magic, Sammy," his comment earned him a punch in the arm.

"Don't _ever_ call me Sammy." She hissed.

**Valerie Grey**, the girl on his other side, and Sam's _other_ best friend, rolled her eyes. "If you two are done flirting, we should go in now." She pushed open the metal door, revealing the bright lights and loud music of Chicago's most controversial speakeasy.

The Green Mill.

Also known as the home of the most scandalous flappers and ruthless mobsters.

"H-how'd you get in?" Dash cemented himself outside the door until Sam pushed him in.

"Who cares?" She grinned and took a deep breath, enjoying the freedom, the exhilaration, and the overall rebellion of it all. "This place looks amazing!"

"Gotta agree with ya on that one," Valerie replied as she began to make her way to the bar, no surprise there.

Sam was determined to have a fun night. Val's treat, supposedly. Kiss a stranger, drink an illegal martini, and, most importantly, dance.

After all, she _was_ set to get married next month.

**Elliot Williams** was, in short, every debutante girl's dream. Smart, rich, handsome, the list could go on and on.

But Sam didn't want to be his wife. In fact, the thought of getting married at eighteen sickened her. She was a free woman! She could do whatever she wanted! And her mother must've sensed that, because she called Sam's annoyingly perfect cousin up all the way from the south to "help with the wedding preparations". Her mother insisted she marry Elliot before the opportunity slipped away.

Just like her grand opportunity was slipping away now.

"So," Sam turned to Dash as he casually leaned next to her, pulling out a lighter. She eyed it curiously. "I didn't know you smoked," she crossed her arms at him.

Dash gave her a lopsided grin that seemed to make all the girls swoon. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

"Shut up, you can't pull off the mysterious aura with me."

"Works on other girls."

"Well," Sam winked, "I'm not like other girls."

"Ooh, getting saucy in our knee-length dress, are we?" he teased.

"What?" she gave him a look of confusion before taking a minute to study the girls around her, and a red blush began creeping up her cheeks. He was right. Sam looked like dandelion in a field of roses. Or, more accurately, a prude in a crowd full of fun girls. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?" she hissed at Dash.

He simply shrugged in response. "I thought you already knew about the dress code." He took a puff of his cigarette, which made Sam cough, as much as she tried to hide it.

_Maybe I'm not fit for this place after all..._

In an attempt to show Dash that she was angry at him, Sam marched away to find Val.

And, she had to admit, her best friend was fitting in more on her first day there that Sam would if she spent a lifetime there.

Not that her mother would allow it.

But, then again, she wasn't allowing Sam to come here in the first place.

She slid in next to Valerie on a seat, who was currently flirting with some guy that looked twice her age.

And, honestly, he didn't seem as interested in her as he did in her dress. Re: what was _under_ her dress. Sam was a little bothered that she had to _wait_ for Valerie's attention. For goodness sake, did Valerie actually want to leave her friend alone like that? After an agonizing minute the brunette turned to Sam, grinning. "So, what do you think? Was it all I said it was and more?"

"No," Sam huffed. "You didn't tell me that I should've changed after coming home from The Academy."

(Yes, Sam's parents were so wealthy they sent her to a school simply titled 'The Academy'.)

"Well," Valerie stifled a giggle under Sam's glare, "I assumed that went without saying."

"Shut up," Sam said for the second time in ten minutes, playfully punching her friend's arm. She'd wanted to hit Val harder, though. _Her_ dress was perfectly on point. Their brewing argument was broken up by a young man that walked out in front of them, presumably the bartender.

**Tucker Foley** wasn't exactly what you would call handsome, but he wasn't too sore on the eyes, either. "So, can I get you ladies anything to drink?" he flashed them a grin. Valerie smiled back, her eyes saw any attention as good attention.

She ordered something for the two of them, but Sam was too busy panicking internally. A drink? What if someone she knew was here? What if they saw her? What if Valerie and her careless mouth told her mother? What if she still smelt like alcohol when she got home? What if-?

But Sam didn't have time to ponder these questions, since the man came back and pushed a glass in front of her. "Two dry martinis, you two need anything else?"

"Hmm," Valerie picked up her martini and took a gulp, as if she'd been coming her for years and knew just how much to drink.

Sam did the same, and almost choked. What _was_ this stuff?! It burned her throat and she couldn't imagine why people would go breaking the law for something so bitter.

Tucker stared at her for a moment. "I thought you were new here 'cause of the dress but I didn't want to be rude, but _man_, are you really new here!" he burst out laughing.

Sam shot him a glare that made him pipe down immediately. He had no right to be in her business! She could choke on whatever she wanted.

Well, not like _that._

"Who are _you_, anyway?" she demanded.

"Tucker Foley. That's T.F., as in _Too Fine_," he winked at her and this time she really did choke.

Valerie shot her a sideways glance and giggled. "I'm Valerie, and the bitchy one is Sam."

"Well, you two should plan on stickin' around for the show. Ember's pretty talented, if I do say so myself."

"Ember?" Sam questioned. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't put a face next to it.

Then something dawned on her. This was an illegal speakeasy. With illegal drinks. And that meant...it would have ghosts. They weren't _technically_ illegal, but everyone treated 'em like they were. She gulped. She'd always been told to stay away from ghosts, that they were scum and had nothing better to do than invade the human world.

And that's when she realized where she'd heard the name before. Her mother, always updated on the latest gossip, made sure to tell Sam about how absolutely shameless and un-ladylike this girl was, painting her face with streaks of eyeliner, supposedly hypnotizing innocent people, going around singing in speakeasies. The quality of her voice was beyond the matter.

Anyway, it wasn't like Sam hadn't seen ghosts before. She had, while she was out and about. But she tried not to look their way. Frankly, she didn't like the look of them, with their pale skin and brightly-colored hair. It was unnatural. The idea of watching one sing sent a shiver through her body. She felt nervous, excited, and maybe a bit scared. She wasn't sure what to expect.

While she had been contemplating about whether to stay or not, Tucker and Valerie had striked up a decent conversation before he had to tend to other customers.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Dash had crept up behind her, making Sam jump in her seat.

She composed herself quickly, though. "Me? Scared? Not at all," She grinned hesitantly.

"You definitely are," Val turned around to join the conversation. "And you haven't even seen the band yet," she chuckled.

"Oh yeah? And what's so special about them?"

"Well, let's just say they're nothing like what you're used to."

* * *

_ooooh new story yay! i've actually written a couple chapters already for this and i know where it's going and everything. this is basically a 1920's AU where instead of how there was like a lot of controversy surrounding black people, it's ghosts. plus i think i may change the title. so yeah i'm really excited and i'll try to update this every friday!_

_qotd: if you could go back to any time period, which one would it be?_

_aotd: i'd prob go to the fifties since all of america's major problems are over and there are bikers and diners and elvis and yeah haha_

_-Maira_


	2. Chapter 2

_"These children learn from_

_cigarette burns,_

_fast cars,_

_fast women,_

_and cheap drinks."_

**Ember McLain **didn't hate singing. Of course not. It was her talent. Her obsession. The thing she lived for.

Well, you get what she means.

But at times, she really hated _where_ she sang. "Amity's most famous speakeasy", The Green Mill. One was those times was tonight.

"Skulker! Where'd ya put my liner?" she yelled.

"Why do you asssume that _I_ put it somewhere?"

The blue-haired ghost groaned and put her head down on the dingy dresser she was sitting in front of. "Well, can't really put on a show without makeup, can I?"

"Ask Phantom!"

"Like he'll listen," she scoffed. She looked around for any sign of their piano player, but found nothing. She finally resigned herself to fixing her bob in the mirror, making sure her bangs didn't completely cover her face.

Suddenly, a black tube hit the back of her head. "Hey!" she picked it up, and upon further inspection, realized it was her eyeliner.

"Found it behind the bar. You're welcome," Tucker walked backstage, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Get out, ya know that only the band's supposed to be back here," she scolded playfully, only half serious.

"Hey, you should be glad that I can tolerate you filthy ghosts," he joked.

"What's this I hear about filthy ghosts?" A deeper voice joined them.

"They're talking about you, obviously," Skulker teased.

"C'mon, we all know who the best is in this band. The mysterious devil Phantom!" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Everyone burst out laughing at his tone.

"Anyway, I came back here for another reason, _besides_ delivering Ember's liner." Tucker said.

"Which is?" Ember had popped the cap off, and started making the thick streaks around her eyes that she was known for.

"Boss said he's comin'."

To be honest, Ember absolutely hated him. If she didn't love singing so much she would've never gotten the job once she met the guy. He was sleazy, deceiving, but powerful. That's what irked her the most.

"Shit," Skulker said under his breath.

"He's not _that_ bad," Phantom said, but they all knew he was lying.

"He isn't here _yet_, so stop defending him," Ember chuckled. "When?" she turned her attention back to Tucker.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Tonight, tomorrow, whenever, all I'm saying is be ready," the bartender began to walk back out before Skulker called,

"Hey! Any chance he's bringin' his girl?"

"You pig!" Ember and Phantom burst out laughing as she hit Skulker upside the head, but she couldn't help but lock eyes with a certain silver-haired man.

**Phantom **was an odd kind of guy, someone who didn't seem like he belonged in the back of a speakeasy. Sure, he was hot, but she could say that about a number of people. He was loud but reserved. Friendly but cold. Deadly but heroic.

He was, in short, hard to explain.

But they all had something in common. Ember, Skulker, Phantom, and even Tucker.

They all had nothing but each other.

Maybe that's why Ember never really left.

* * *

"You suck the fun out of everything!"

"Excuse me? It's almost 3! IN THE MORNING!"

Sam yawned, stumbling between her friends as they argued. Frankly, she couldn't tell who was who.

She'd had a fun night. Made fun with alcohol, but still fun nonetheless. The drink was actually pretty good after a couple sips.

The band of ghosts was certainly a surprise, though. Surprisingly good. The girl's -Amber's?- voice was beautiful. She wanted to walk right up to stage so she could hear her better.

Thank goodness she didn't. Or maybe she did. Sam can't really remember.

"So, did _you _have fun?" Dash poked her side.

Sam giggled. "Yeah."

"And you do realize that you have to crawl into your window without making a sound?" Valerie asked.

"She's drunk," Dash deadpanned. "We'll have to help her in there."

"Are you kidding me?! You'll make so much noise Mrs. Manson will find us for sure!"

Me? Look who's talking!"

"Guys, I can totally goinmyhousealone..." the last few words had slurred together, despite Sam's best intention for them not to.

"Well, our houses are just around the corner. Don't worry."

In a few minutes time they reached the Manson residence, and it took another few minutes to walk across the perfectly-manicured lawn to get to the back of the house, where Sam's window was.

"Okay, so," Dash took a moment to think of a plan of action. "Val and I'll boost you into your window, but it's up to you to open it and get inside."

Sam swayed into his arms. "Okay!"

He looked at her for a moment and shook his head, sharing a smirk with Valerie. "On second thought, I'll go up there first and open the window."

"Soundss good."

It took Dash about 3 seconds to climb up her house, obvious that he'd done it before. He clicked open the window, and that's when he realized someone was in Sam's room.

"Shit! Someone's in there!" his panicked whisper floated down to the girls, and Valerie immediately tacked Sam into one of the rose bushes.

"Ow! There are thorns in here!"

"Shut up, unless you wanna get caught!"

Dash, on the other hand, had opted to slide over to the absolute edge of the windowsill, being able to hear the woman inside.

"So, she'll be here tomorrow afternoon? That's absolutely swell!" Sam's mother clicked the phone off. "I suppose Sammikins is in the bathroom."

Dash knew it was a good idea for Sam to leave the bathroom light on before she snuck out.

Pamela pushed open the curtains, almost knocking the blond boy off the sill. "Funny, I don't remember the window being open before..." she mused.

_Fuck, this is it. This is where we get caught._

"Oh well," she stuck her head out the window slightly, but the surprise of it made Dash completely lose his balance.

He tumbled into the rose bush, landing on two glitzy, but disheveled, girls.

"Watch it, will ya?" Valerie jabbed her elbow into Dash's side.

"Stop poking me!"

"Move your hands!"

Move _your_ hands!"

"I swear to God she is going to see us!"

"And hear!"

"SHHHH!"

The woman above them let out a small shriek, and evaluated the ground undeneath her. "Raccoons..."

The trio sighed in relief.

Dash waited a few minutes until he was absolutely sure that she'd left, and climbed out again.

"Remind me _why_ you pushed me into a rose bush?" Sam demanded, standing steady.

Valerie shrugged. "Well, looks like it knocked some of the alcohol out of ya," she grinned.

"Guys, seriously, I need to get home."

"Alright, alright."

Valerie and Dash made a base out of their hands, and they raised them almost immediately after Sam stepped on them, pushing off and climbing into her window.

"Well, see ya two," she yawned and looked back down at them. "Now, scram 'fore my mother comes back," she smirked.

"Bye Sam!"

"See ya!"

Sam lay down on her bed, barely slipping out of her dress and not bothering to wash off her makeup.

Then she realized her goody-two shoes cousin was supposed to come tomorrow.

Which made her want to go to sleep and never wake up again.

* * *

_heyy so i updated on time yay! haha this was a boring filler chapter but i wanted y'all to get an idea about what each character's relations are to each other. have i got you thinking about who their boss is? no? okay. speaking of okay did anyone see The Fault in our Stars? i shall see it Sunday and im real excited c: anyway, next chapter will have Paulina. if you read this entire thing, then why not take an extra minute to review, right?_

_-Maira_


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